grounds and conservatories, and I feel safe in saying that it is the most beautiful, comfortable, and elegant structure in all England, not excepting even Windsor Castle. To describe the park with its three thousand deer, the gardens with their extensive conservatories, water-falls, fountains and statuary, the castle with its extensive libraries, ancient paintings and statuary, would require more space than I can allow in this letter. But notwithstanding the great magnificence of Chatsworth, I must say that the antiquity and associations connected with Haddon Hall made it more interesting to me. It remains as a model of domestic arrangements of the noble families of former times, and as a picturesque object suited to the bold and romantic landscape of which it forms a prominent part; and it is also deserving great attention from artists and amateurs as affording examples of elaborate and beautiful workmanship in the carved panelling of its wainscotted apartments, and in the elegant tracery of some of the ceiling.

The next places of interest were Sherwood Forest and Newstead Abbey, both of which possess attractions and associations dear to every Englishman-the former as the place where "bold Robin Hood and his merrie men" used to practise their daring exploits, and the latter as the home of the gifted Byron. As we passed through this legendary neighborhood, surrounded by the haunts of Robin Hood and his band of outlaws, so famous in ancient ballad and nursery tale, it recalled vividly the romantic faith and impressions of our boyhood, and caused a thrill of delight to animate a heart which is not always glad. My remembrances of "merrie Sherwood" are of the pleasantest kind; for often during my earlier life have I dwelt with wonderment over the pages of some little book giving a description of the great deeds once done in this classic region. This locality, which was once a mighty forest, now teems with mouldering ruins and noble remnants of the grandeur of bygone ages. Among the many interesting spots that give character to the neighborhood, Newstead Abbey is the most prominent, aud particularly interesting to Americans, as they are generally great admirers of the poet. As we drew near to the Abbey, a most glorious scene burst upon the view. On the right hand lay a splendid sheet of water, fringed with young woods that bow their whispering homage o'er the margin, reflecting all the depth and brightness of

the tranquil heavens; aquatic wild birds studded the silvery surface,
as though they had a "vested interest" in the place, and possessed a
protective order" against all molestation. A romantic water-fall,
and the ruins of a rustic mill, together with the gentle murmuring
of the foaming falls, added to the richly wooded country around,
served to complete a picture upon which memory, so long as
"she
holds her zeal," will love to dwell. Turning to the left, the vener-
able Abbey rises in solemn grandeur, the long and lovely ivy cling-
ing fondly to the rich tracery of a former age. As we first gazed
upon these old walls, and remembered that it was here, even among
the comparative ruins of a building once dedicated to the sacred
cause of religion by the monks of old, that the great genius of
Byron was first developed-here that he paced with youthful mel-
ancholy the halls of his illustrious ancestors, and trod the lonely
walks of the banished monks-we involuntarily commenced repeat-
ing those beautiful lines from his own pen, in which he speaks of
the decay of his much loved home:

"Newstead! fast falling, once resplendent dome;
Religions shrine; repentant Henry's pride;
Of warriors, monks and Danes, the cloistered tomb,
Whose pensive shades around thy ruins glide;
Hail to thy pile! more honor'd in the fall
Than modern mansions in their pillar'd state:
Proudly majestic frowns thy vaulted hall,
Scowling defiance on the blasts of Fate."

Newstead was founded by Henry the Second, in the year 1170, as a priory of Black Canons, an order having for their tutelary patron St. Augustine, and practising great austerity of life. It was dedicated to the Virgin Mary, and there is still to be seen in one of the niches of the chapel, in a state of preservation, a sculptured Virgin and child. It continued a priory until the time of Henry VIII., who, in his zeal for the temporal welfare of himself, and to the consternation of the then religious world, set about the wholesale destruction of all the monastic institutions of the country. It was afterwards granted by the same royal favor to Sir John Byron, who converted it into a residence of more than ordinary splendor. During the troubles which marked the history of the great rebellion, which ended in the martyrdom of the unfortunate King Charles the

First, the Byrons distinguished themselves as warm adherents of royalty, and Newstead sustained the siege from the parliamentarians; thus as Lord Byron says:

"The Abbey once, a regal fortress now,
Encircled by insulting rebel powers;

War's dread machines thy threatening brow,

And dart destruction in sulphurous showers."

On the death of Charles, the Byron estate was placed under sequestration. During the civil war, in 1643, Charles the First marked his high sense of Sir John Byron's loyalty and devotion by raising him to the peerage, and immediately after the restoration Charles the Second restored Newstead to its late owner, from whom it descended to Lord Byron. In the year 1818, Colonel Wildman, the present esteemed owner, purchased it from the poet, who was compelled to dispose of it on account of pecuniary difficulties, for the sum of £100,000; and has since, by judicious alterations and im provements, proved himself a most worthy owner of a place at once the pride of the forest and the admiration of thousands who have by his courtesy been permitted to traverse its spacious galleries and venerable halls. We had the pleasure of seeing Col. Wildman, who was very kind in conducting us through the various apartments of the Abbey and explaining every thing to us. He was a class-mate and early friend of the poet, and in speaking of Lord Byron he would almost go into ecstasies.

From the Abbey we came to this place, which has the honor of being the last resting-place of the departed great, his remains having been removed by his sister, Augusta Maria Leigh, from Missolonghi in Western Greece. His remains are deposited in the Byron vault, in a small church and still smaller village. He should have been buried where he requested, at Newstead, between his favorite dog and faithful servant. But he needs no monument or epitaph to perpetuate his memory; it will live when all monuments shall have crumbled away.

LETTER FIVE.

STRATFORD-ON-AVON, Eng.

Visit to Birmingham-Its Manufactures, etc.-Visit to Kenilworth and Warwick CastlesThe Home of Shakspeare.

WE are now nearly in the centre of England, and in the great workshop of the kingdom, where almost every thing that the human mind can conceive of is manufactured. From a very early period Birmingham has been renowned for its manufactures in steel and iron. This trade is now carried on to an extent elsewhere unequalled. The principal branches of it are plate and plated wares, ornamented steel goods, jewelry, japanning, papier maché, cut-glass ornaments, steel pens, buckles and buttons, cast-iron articles, guns, steam-engines, etc. We found no difficulty in gaining admission, as at Manchester, into the principal establishments. They were particularly polite in carrying us through and showing the entire process by which they manufacture their various articles. We were particularly struck with the manner of making papier maché articles, which are so beautiful, and which appear to us so difficult and intricate. The process is very simple when we look at it, and causes us to wonder why it has not been more generally used. The first thing is to cut out of common brown paper the articles to be made, which is pasted together and placed in an oven of a certain temperature to be dried. It is then taken out and varnished with a very thick black coating, the mother-of-pearl being imbedded in the varnish. The article is now complete with the exception of the finishing polish, which is nothing more than rubbing and varnishing.

Birmingham is connected with London and various places by means of canals, and forms a centre of railway communication with every part of the kingdom. There is nothing in Birmingham to attract the stranger, aside from the mills. Her public edifices and monuments are of a mean description, and deserve no particular notice.

Not far from Birmingham is the famed Castle of Kenilworth, around which linger so many historical associations and pleasing reminiscences.

"Shrine of the mighty, can it be

That this is all that remains of thee?"

Among the venerable remains of the once magnificent dwellings of princes-alternately the prisons and the "plaisance" of royaltythere cannot be one more deserving the notice of the admirers of picturesque beauty than this old castle, which, notwithstanding the corroding hand of Time, still retains such vestiges of its former extent and grandeur as are powerfully calculated to impress the mind of the beholder with a vivid idea of the magnificence of the feudal ages, and the instability of all things human. As I stood upon the bridge erected by the Earl of Leicester for Queen Elizabeth to enter the castle, and viewed its ivy-clad battlements and majestic towers, which are now fast mouldering to decay, yet still "elegant in their ruins and dignified in their disgrace," I was inspired with thrilling emotions of the deepest awe and veneration. Imagination involuntarily takes wing, and forcibly brings to remembrance the departed glory of all those mighty cities, whose renown in arts and arms filled the world with wonder and astonishment, and whose builders decreed that they should be the imperishable monuments of the genius of science and of conquest. Who, for instance, can behold the ruins now unfolded to our view, without exclaiming, in the sublime and energetic language of the inspired writer, "How is the mighty fallen!" All who have read Sir Walter Scott are perfectly familiar with the strange and romantic history of Kenilworth. The only part of the original fortress of this once lordly structure now remaining is the keep, generally known as Cæsar's Tower, the walls of which are in some places ten feet thick. The remains of the additions made by John of Gaunt, Duke of Lancaster, are termed Lancaster buildings. In a part of the ruins termed Leicester buildings are to be seen the relics of the great hall, a fine baronial room eighty-eight feet in length and forty-five in width. Although the erections of Leicester are of the most recent date, they have the most ancient and ruined appearance, being built of a brown, crumbling stone, not well adapted for durability. "We cannot but add," says Sir Walter Scott, "that this lordly palace, where princes feasted and where heroes fought, now in the bloody current of storm and siege, and now in the games of chivalry, where beauty dealt the prize which valor won, all is now desolate. The bed of the lake is now a rushy